Mission Valentine
by Daitsuke-kun
Summary: Carlos is now Chris's new partner, and they both struggle with grief and admit the feeling they both have for the dead Jill. However, when they receive Jill's photo, they're ready for anything to bring her back. Reviews please!
1. I

She was dead for already three years, Chris reminded himself, taking another shot of fine russian vodka. The thought was depressing; he still had the feeling that she'll walk in in any second, right now, laughing and ruffling his hair like she did when they were in S.T.A.R.S.

Unfortunately, she didn't. She never came back, and Chris had to understand that she was gone. Jill was gone, forever, and it was his own damn fault.

Grief came overwhelmed him once again and he hit the table with his fist, gritting his teeth. He could feel tears in his eyes, again...

He knew he was druk. He was drunk for already what time this year he couldn't say; there were no missions in the B.S.A.A. for him yet for already two months because the virus dealers weren't about to show themselves so happily, so he sat in one of the bars near his house in Massachusets and tried to drown his guilt in alchohol.

His PDA vibrated in his pocket vigorously, but Chris didn't feel it; in his state, he was too stunned to do anything, even looking at something was becoming quite difficult.

Someone walked in the bar and sat on the stool near Chris. The Redfield's gaze focused on the person that just came and he let out a sigh that turned into a little growl.

"You know, she won't come back even if you drink all vodka of the world" - the person commented. Chrs lazily tried to show a middle finger, but his fingers were too clumsy and didn't want to move on his will; when drunk, Chris was just helpless. A newborn baby could kill him with a rattle when the mighty Redfield was like that.

"Fuck off, Carlos" - grunted Chris, deciding to voice his wantings verbally. He heard a chuckle; a sarcastic chuckle, but Chris knew that behind it was sadness.

He missed _her_ to, he knew.

They both missed _her_.

"One whisky please" - Carlos asked the barman. As the barman nodded and turned around to open the requested bottle of alchohol, Carlos snatched the glass from Chris's numb shaking fingers and drank all that was left.

"Hey, that was my drink! And besides, didn't you just order something else?"- Chris mumbled.

Carlos wiped his mouth, exhaling.

"I think you've had enough, partner. I don't want to carry your heavy body all the way to your apartament; you know, I want to die a happy healthy man at the age of ninety and not because of the broken spine at thirty four."

Chris winced. Partner. This word burned into him. He couldn't bring himself to call someone that since... Well, since her. She'd been his only partner. All others were walking shit.

"Like you even would've thought about helping me, Oliveira. You can lie to yourself all you want, but you can't lie to me. I know you for how long already?.."

"Seven years I guess?"- Carlos drank some of his whisky that the barman brought him.

"Exactly"

"Well, maybe something good could be awoken in me seeing you so vulnerable and helpless. You just imagine: the allmighty Christopher Redfield..."

"Can it"

Carlos shrugged, drinking the remnants of his whisky.

"You're no fun. It was just a joke" - he payed for his drink, throwing the money on the table; it quickly vanished in the barmans hands who counted them and looked content. Probably the tip was good.

Chris heavily looked at Carlos, his eyes unfocused and misty. Damn vodka. Why russians had to invent it in the first place? He had a feeling that just for his personal torture.

"Why are you even here? Don't you have a whore you want to go and fuck?" - Chris thought he talked pretty clear, but in fact his words were awfully slurred. It was a miracle Carlos understood him at all, but on the other hand it wasn't surprising; the ex-mercenary just knew him all-too well.

Oliveira averted his misty gaze, instead focusing on a particularly interesting wooden surface of the table in front of them.

"You pretty damn know that since I met Jill, I can't even look at other females" - he said quitely, nearly whispered. In the bar with loud upbeat music it was really hard to hear him, but somehow, Chris did.

"Is that so? - Chris chuckled hysterically. - You mean you didn't have a fuck in years? How unfortunate. Poor Carlos."

Redfield's voice was practically dripping with sarcasm and anger. Carlos winced as if someone hit him.

"You're drunk - he stated jumping off the stool. - Let's go".

Chris shook his head angirly.

"Like hell I'm going anywhere! - Chris eyed Carlos with such hatred that the ex-mercenary winced again. - I bet you don't even give a fuck that she's dead now! Get it? She's dead! She'll never come back! Never! And you're acting like you don't care at all!" - he stood up, swinged his fist at Carlos and missed only mere sentimetres. Hs reaction now was too slow, and besides, Carlos was sober, unlike him, and managed to duck.

"How the hell can you say that!? Just because I don't drink that much like you doesn't mean that I don't care! Drinking yourself until you see stars won't bring Jill back!" - The ex-Umbrella mercenary yelled at his partner, his italian accent showing clearly when he was angry.

Chris just breathed heavily, looking at Carlos. Mentioning her name now was somewhat a taboo; it brought too much painful memories. He stared at Carlos, his eyes unmoving, piercing into mercenaries brownish orbs.

And then, without warning, he punched.

Carlos stumbled backwards, his back colliding with the bar wall. Touching his nose, he saw that blood was seeping out; wiping it with his hand that was immeditaely stained red, he rushed to Chris and hit him in the neck with the side of his palm. He knew the exact place where to hit, and he didn't miss; rolling his eyes, Chris fell to the floor, his bulky body not moving. He was unconcious.

Sighting, Carlos pulled out his cellphone.

"Kirk, he's drunk. Yes, again. He's unconcious now; I hit him so he'd stop making the peaceful bar clients anxious. Yes, bring the car here ASAP. I don't want to carry this elephant alone; and he might wake up soon, maybe after half an hour. Yeah, thanks, I owe you one. Carlos out."

As he closed the lid, Carlos sighted at his partner, who was now unconciously lying on the floor.

"If you only knew how I miss her, Redfield. If you only knew..."


	2. II

His head hurt. The world also hurt, cracking in two and three and even more as Chris opened his eyes and tried to focus on something. Anything.

"You're finally awake, Redfield. You do understand that it can't be like that forever, right?"

Chris turned his head to the right and saw the blurry figure of Kirk, one of his B.S.A.A. comrades and commanding officers.

"Bring her back to me and I'll stop"

Kirk sighted, running a hand through his short spiky hair, styled similiarly like Chris's when he still was in S.T.A.R.S.

He decided not to answer to that particular question.

Chris's gaze travelled past him and stopped on the familiar figure of his partner; he was leaning on the doorway, a cigarette between his lips.

"I didn't know you smoke, Oliveira"

"Well, good afternoon to you to, Redfield - smirked Carlos, puffing out a curl of while smoke. - As a matter of a fact, I don't. I gave up"

"How many cigarrets back did you give up?" - chuckled Chris, making an attemt to sit up. Somehow he managed, even though the world was still spinning. Carlos shrugged, dropping the cigarette and smashing it with his heavy combat boot.

"What's it to you?"

"Nothing. - Chris stood up and walked to Carlos, still feeling a little unsteady but nevertheless more sure with his actions. - I just wanted to ask if you had some for me"

"I thought you didn't smoke?" - asked Carlos rethorically, pulling out his pack of Chesterfield and offering Chris a cigarette.

"I gave up 12 years ago" - confessed Redfield honestly, snatching the lighter right from Carlos's hands and lighting his personal health killer. Carlos didn't say anything, only melancholically hid the lighter in his pocket when Chris threw it to him. It was a habit that Chris had recently picked - throwing things at people even if they were standing mere sentimetres from him.

Kirk anxiously studied the two partners, his eyebrows frowning; you could practically see gears in his head turning as he was silently thinking about saying something.

As Chris puffed out the white smoke, Kirk stood up and walked to Carlos.

"Can I talk to you privately?"

Chris winced.

"Jeez, your gentle side is always there, comrade" - with these words he walked out to the balcony, closing the glass door behind himself.

"You were supposed to look after him!"

"What am I, his mommy!? Maybe I also have to wipe his drool and ass after he shits himself!?"

"Easy there; we both know his on the edge, he may go insane! We can't afford to lose him, he is our best operative, after all!"

Carlos smiled bitterly.

"So is this all he's to you? The best operative?"

"And, of course, a good friend" - Kirk added quickly.

Carlos didn't answer anything, just turned away from Kirk.

"You disgust me. You're thinking only about yourself and you're just scared shitlessly that the B.S.A.A. would hand your ass to you on a silver plate if Chris goes insane. It's your fault she's dead."

"Watch it, Oliviera! I'm your commanding officer after all!" - barked Kirk.

Carlos turned to him, his smile poisonous and eyed him sarcastically.

"Well, sorry, _officer_, - Carlos said, his voice dripping with anger he could barely contain. - but if I recall well, it was you who said that Redfield and Valentine could handle everything themselves in the Spencers Estate!"

Kirk stepped closer to Carlos, his hands clenching into fists.

"If you remember they especially noted that they _didn't_ _need_ any help!"

"What kind of a shitty commander are you if you listen to the stupid requestes of your comrades!"

Kirk breathed heavily through his gritted, clenching and unclenching his fists angirly, but he was helpless; he knew that Carlos was right. Deep down he knew that the ex-mercenary was telling the truth, and he also knew that this fight was lost beforehand.

But he wasn't the one to go down so easily; what the hell of a commander was he if he wasn't so stubborn and couldn't defend his opinion? Even if this opinion wasn't right. But in Kirks mind there was only one way - his. All others were wrong.

"You're in no position of blaming me! I didn't do anything!"

Immediately Kirk nearly bit his tounge.

Exactly. He didn't do _anything_. Nothing.

Carlos chuckled bitterly as he observed his comrades expression, clearly reaing through the expressionless mask that was Kirks face.

The memories were still fresh in his mind, he remembered...

[Two years ago, 4 hours before the Spencer Estate incident]

The door to DeChant's office burst opened, and Kurk sharply turned around just in time to meet the excited Jill and Chris rushing inside, their eyes glowing maniacally.

"Sir, we've found..."

"Sir, we did..."

"Silence!" - DeChant boomed, looking first at Redfield, then at Valentine. Both best operatives shut up, and Kirk could even see a girly blush on Chris's cheeks. Or it was just a stupid hallucination because of the dim lights of DeChant's office?..

"Please do tell" - said the head commander when Chris and Jill calmed down. Although Kirk, sensetive to other people's emotions, could feel pure excitement babbling inside of him.

"Sir..." - started Chris and Jill tpgether. Glaring at each other (although more in a playful manner), Chris finally sighted and gave up. Jill started to speak. When her partner mumbled something that suspiciously sounded like "bleh, women", she completely ignored him.

"Sir, we've found the important information on Ozwell E. Spencer, one of the original founders of the Umbrella Corporation whom we've been tracking down for nearly four years..."

"I know the side story, you know the training, split it already out, Valentine!" - DeChant waved his hand. Kirk snorted. As patientless as always. He never changed.

"Well, - Jill smiled somewhat mischieveously - we kind of had found the place where he is now."

"And we want to be sent on the misson to inflirate the place!" - Chris blurted out, unable to contain himself. Jill elbowed him in the ribs and Redfield bent in pain, gasping for air. Kirk laughed, and quickly masked it as a cough when DeChant looked at him strictly. It was just so hillarious - when the all-mighty strong operative that handled zombies and all the Umbrella shit was that vulnerable when it came to Jill. Sometimes Kirk wondered... Of course, it was the top B.S.A.A. gossip - that Chris had a crush on Jill, or that they were secretly in love with each other. Kirk half-listened to them, they were professionals and only friends, but still...

DeChant made a stopping gesture with his hand.

"Hold your horses you two! You know that it's not legal to break into people's houses, right?"

Chris's face showed such shock that Kirk barely contained himself from laughing out loud. How naive sometimes he was, that Redfield.

"But sir, he was the original founder of the Umbrella corporation, the man who is responsibe for being the creator of the T-Virus and..."

"I know who Spencer is, Redfield, it's not what I intended to say. I just wanted to remind you, that you have no rights to break into his house without an order."

Jill clenched her fists.

"Then give it to us!"

"Valentine, do not order around here! If you recall, the captain here is _me_"

Jill and Chris glanced at each other, wincing slightly. _Captain_. They never had captains after... Well, after the_ Mansion incident_ eight years ago...

DeChant sighted and cracked his fingers. The index finger gave the loudest sound, and it made Kirk wince. He didn't like it when his boss did that. The sound was... Disturbing. It sounded as if someones life was sealed, the final gesture of someones life before the eyes of a human would close forever.

Realizing his little mistake at the choice of words, DeChant sighted.

"Look, I know we've been searching for this man for years... But I don't know if I can let you go alone. I don't know what'll be awaiting for you there... we can't afford to loose our best operatives."

DeChant looked Jill sternly in the eyes, and she held his gaze with ease. He was looking at the woman who lived through the Mansion Estate nightmare and the Raccoon city Hell. Did he really think she could be broken so easily?..

Their boss sighted in defeat.

"Okay, okay... I'm sighning it. But only if you make a promise that you won't be reckless..." - he glanced at Chris and sighted once again. In the Redfields eyes there already was such a look that it was clear that he didn't even consider the option to be too careful. Through the shell of a hardened operative a young naive hot-headed S.T.A.R.S. member could be seen for a moment. However, Jill had a stoned expression on her beautiful features, and DeChant instantly relaxed. In this duo, at least Valentine was sane enough not to do anything stupid. And she was sure to keep an eye on Chris.

"And Redfield, - DeChant pointed a finger at his best operative. - Bear it in mind that if it wasn't for Valentine, you'd stay here and won't go anywhere. So you should thank your partner"

Somehow it reminded of a way a kid was given sweets under the strict eye of his older sister. Chris turned to Jill and sincerly said:

"Thank you Jill"

Kirk had to bite on his fist so he won't laugh out loud looking at Redfields almost childish expression that looked too ridiculous on the hardened man's face with a five day stubble.

And when they got the order and stormed out of the office, Kirk and DeChant heard a victorious cry from behind the door that apparently belonged to Redfield and Valentine. Her's was even louder; DeChant couldn't take it anymore so he started to laugh hysterically.

"God, I just love this sweet pair." - he gasped, laughing. Kirk choked on his babbling laughter when a sinking feeling appeared in his stomach. He had a sudden feeling that it would end bad. That he sould have stopped them somehow. But how? They would've laughed at him, for sure. And Kirk didn't like to be laughed at.

So he laughed aloing with DeChant, although the sinking in his stomach got even worse; he had a feeling that if something was eating him from inside.

[End of the flashback]

"I couldn't do anything, Carlos..." - suddenly Kirk looked much more older then his true 29 years. The ex-Umbrella mercenary could see wrinkles around his eyes and thin mouth.

Oliveira sighted.

"I'm... I'm sorry - he mumbled, lighting another cigarette. - You know, it's just..."

"I understand" - Kirk put a hand on his comrades shoulder.

Carlos gritted his teeth. _Yeah, these cliche words_. In fact, he didn't understand shit.

"But that doesn't mean that you can freely touch me" - spat the ex-mercenary. Kirk put his hand away quickly, chuckling.

"As sharp as always. I assume you don't like to be touched because..."

"Finish that phrase and I'll blow your brains"

"Geez, and when I was younger I wanted to be a psychologist..."

"Why didn't you become one then?" - asked Carlos in a robotic voice. He wasn't interested, really; he was already deep in his thoughts.

"I grew up" - came Kirk's dry reply.

Before Carlos could respond, Chris emerged from the balcony, his face wet.

"Stopped your chit-chat, girlies?" - he asked, his voice husky. Carlos looked at his partner suspiciously.

"Were you crying?"

Chris wiped his face with his large hands and sighted.

"No, it is just rain" - Kirk glanced outside. Indeed, it was raining, and raining hard.

"By the way, I have a mission for you" - smirked their commander. Carlos and Chris looked at him, their eyes lighting like if Christmas came early.

"Go get some beer I'm dying of thirst" - Chris's and Carlos's hands rythmically punched his ribs and Kirk grasped his sides.

"I'm serious!" - he managed to gasp.

"We're too" - reassured him Redfield and Oliviera.

Suddenly Chris's PDA gave a squeaking sound. Chris satched it out and his face paled.

"Carlos, - he whispered to his partner. Kirk was forgotten. Oliviera looked at his partner, his face immediately loosing all the immatureness it held just seconds ago. - Barry is dead."


	3. III

"How did it happen?" - asked Chris quitely. Rebecca sniffed.

"I... I don't know... They refuse to tell me anything... H-he... H-he was like a father to me!" - Rebecca couldn't contain herself anymore, she threw herself in Chris's arms and started to cry loudly in his chest. She still was too petite to get to his shoulder, especially since Chris was kind of... Much more buff then when he was in S.T.A.R.S.

"Now, now... We all loved him..." - Chris felt lost as he was trying to make Rebecca feel better, stroking her hair gently.

"I c-can't take this anymore... First J-Jill, then Barry..." - with the mention of his dead partners name Chris felt sharp pain that appeared somewhere in his stomach; it burned his whole self, it felt as if it wanted him dead. Chris felt his eyes moisten and with a huge amount of will he managed to calm himself down, or he would've cried right there.

"I... I need some time alone" - Chris suddenly heard his own voice as if someone else was speaking. He gently let Rebecca go and slowly walked to his room, his face blank and unemotional. Rebecca could only stare at his back, her eyes glistening with tears and her lips trembling. Her face was red, but she didn't care; all that she wanted now was Jill and Barry back - her old rookie S.T.A.R.S. days back for that matter, when everyone were still alive and happy, and Wesker wasn't a trator.

She clearly remembered those days in S.T.A.R.S., when Joseph and Forest did nothing but fooled around, Richard and Enrico laughed at them and Chris and Jill tried to make everybody work (although it was quiet useless).

[8 years ago, Raccoon City S.T.A.R.S. office, May 12, 1998]

"Forest, why did your mum named you Forest? Was Forest Gump her favorite film?"

"Oh, shut up, Frosty, the film wasn't even made when I was born" - Forest groaned, trying to hit his friend. But Joseph jumped away wizedly, avoiding the punch.

"Then why were you named Forest?" - Joseph continued to ask, and irritate the hell out of Forest. Speyer jumped from his desk, clenching his fists.

"One more word about my name, Frosty, and I'll..."

"And you'll do me absolutely nothing!" - Joseph sticked out his tongue at Speyer and grabbed a pen from the messy desk both he and Forest shared.

"Oh no you don't!" - yelled Forest, starting to chase after him.

"Already did! Catch me if you can, Gumpy!" - Joseph waved the pen in the air teasingly. Forest groaned in an animel-like manner and ran out of the office. Forest made a primal cry and, knocking papers and documents from the desks rushed after his friend.

"Run Forest, run!" - yelled Jill and clapped as the door closed behind them with a bang. Wesker, who was sitting at his desk didn't even look at them. He was too used to this mad house, and learned how to absorb in his work completely, ignoring everything else.

"I bet Joseph'll get away" - noted Jill. Chris's dark eyes sparkled. He loved - no, absolutely adored - bets.

"My bet is that Forest would kill him" - said Chris stubbornly.

"Your bet?.." - asked Jill exitedly. Chris bent a little so he could level her ear.

"How about if I win, you kiss me, Jill? Or better _french kiss_?"

Jill turned his head to him, her cheeks on fire and her neck itchy because of the prickly sensation of a blush that was creeping into her skin.

"You wish!" - snapped Valentine, quickly turning away from him. But Chris managed to notice her embarassment. He grinned.

"Didn't know you've never kissed anyone, Jill" - he chuckled.

"S-shut up! I didn't even know you knew what is "french kissing"!"

Chris blinked innocently.

"Oh, Jilly, I don't know what the hell you're implying here! If you must know, my grand-grand-grand-grand-grand-grand-parent was a frenchman and took part in some revolution in France. So I've got my charms from him, undoubtely." - he winked at Jill, his grin widening. That bastard! So he wanted to make fun of her, playing on her thoughts, knowing _exactly_ what she would think.

A loud laughter stressed the office and even Wesker seemed to have a ghost of a smile on his unemotional features; believing this little legend was really hard. And it wasn't like someone was going to.

[End of the flashback]

Chris sat on his bed heavily and exhaled, massaging his eyes. Her death certainly wasn't something expected; Barry's death was an unpleasant surprise too, however. But no matter how selfish it sounded, he wasn't as traumatized by his death as by Jill's; traumatized mentally, of course.

Of course, he wasn't that desperate to end his own miserable life; although he thought about it. He thought he wasn't that sad, that _dead_ inside; something that happened several months ago, though, shattered his opinion about that.

[Several months ago]

With shaky hands he opened the drawer of his table, dug through his things, his vision blurry and unfocused; finally, he felt the cold metal of the gun with his fingers. It was soothing, it was there, waiting for him. He put the gun to his temple slowly, his palms sweaty, his breathing heavy and unsteady. When he was a teenager, he was believed to have asthma, and it was reappearing of all the times now as he felt. Of course, he could be wrong.

The trigger of the gun was little; it reminded him of how little her life was. She died at the age of 27, still young. She could have kids someday, she would've had family...

_Maybe even with you..._

A lonely tear slid down his cheek, that was already covered by the light stubble. Chris Redfield never cried. Maybe it was the first time in many years.

"Chris? Chris, where are... Oh God, Chris!" - he saw the red blur rush to him, and in mere seconds the gun was roughly pulled away from him. He fell to his knees, sobbing quitely in her shoulder. Claire tenderly stroked the back of his neck, twirling his hair between her slender fingers.

"Chris, you dumbass... How could you!? How could you try to kill yourself!? And besides, the safety was on..." - he could hear tears in her trembling voice. She was on the edge of crying along with him.

He saw the blurry shape of a gun near them and considered stretching his arm to take it and just finish it; but then he realized... He was in Claires arms. He couldn't do it. His sisters would've blaimed herselph for his death, and he couldn't allow her that when it was all his fault.

_Just all his fault._

The apartment was quiet. Only his sobs could be heard in the emptiness and the ticking of the clock in the nearby continued to stroke his hair, and he felt as though he was lying in the warm embrace of his mother. He still rememberd her, sometimes; she came into his dreams along with her father, laughing and playing with him and Claire. They lost her long time ago; and now he'd lost another person that was so dear to him.

He felt something wet fall on his neck; Claire was crying.

"Please, don't..." - whispered Chris in her vest; that same vest that she wore through all her adventures. It was worn and the colors weren't bright, but she liked it, still; even though it brought so much painfull memories.

"I can't. I miss her too." - choked Claire, burying her head in his hair.

"It's hard to live without her, Claire. It's a pain breathing already".

"I know, I know... - she whispered, craddling him in her arms; it looked strange, even _scary_ - a large man, broken inside, and a petite woman, holding him. - Just... Never do something like that. You're the only one I have left, Chris... The only one close...".

"I... I won't..."

And ever since, no matter how desperate he felt, he kept his promise.

[End of the flashback]

Chris layed on the bed.

_Why, Wesker? Why did you have to take everything that I loved so much - S.T.A.R.S., Barry, Jill... Why did you betray us all ten years ago? Why we all had to go through the mansion nightmare?.._

Looks like he'd never know the answer to that; the true answer right from the only man, who knew. Of course, he thought he could guess his reasons. But, again, hearing them right from Wesker could be less insane than guessing.

_And still I don't understand. He had trust, he had our respect and adoration, he had power - wasn't that enough for him?_ No, it seemed he wanted more. And the more he got, the more he still wanted to get.

* * *

Ada Wong holstered her gun as she looked at the body of a dead man, who once was her informer. It appeared that he'd betrayed her; when she came to the hotel room they were ought to meet, someone was making her a _surprise party_ consisting of submachine guns and powder. She managed to kill the informer and his "boys" with a single grenade. It was sheer luck that they all were too stupid and slow.

_Of course, I believe they weren't the real ones. I guess some miserable scum was sent after me; how sad. I thought they would at least respect me and send professionals. _

Exiting the room she herd her communicator beeping. Opening the lid carelessly she looked at the display.

"Wesker" - said Ada, her voice calm and collected.

The man in the sunglasses eyed her unemotionally; to normal people it was frightening, but Ada couldn't care less. She got used to Wesker in all these years she was working for course, it wasn't quite pleasant and entertaining (Ada preferred to be a free mercenary), and she wanted to dissapear somewhere, just away from him. But, you couldn't escape from Wesker that easily, especially when you owned him one tiny little thing - your life.

"Ada - anknowleged Wesker. - I take it the informer is dead?"

"Yes. - answered Ada. - And I believe I'll have some extra money on my check for it"

"Of course - words rolled smoothly off of Wesker's tongue. - You shouldn't worry. His death is just perfect for me. He wasn't a reliable source anyway. Nevertheless, I've got a little mission for you... It's connected with Xavier Idalgo, the infamous South American drug dealer."

"I'm all ears" - replied Ada with a little bit of irony in her voice.

* * *

Chris woke up from another nightmare. The moon was lighting the room in a beautiful way, but it scared Chris. He didn't know why; the dream was a strange one, and he didn't know what to think about it.

_He entered the room, holding the gun tight in his hands. He wanted to pull out his knife out, but then his gaze fell on his arms; tiny strings were attached to his shoulders, legs, torso, head... He realized he couldn't even turn his head on his will. Someone was controlling him._

_A large face of Wesker in a hat that covered half of his face appeared right before him. His big hand in a white glove pulled a string that he held and Chris's arm shot in the air. Another pull - and the gun fell from his grasp._

_Then suddenly a girl appeared; Jill, it was Jill, his Jill, alive! He made an attempt to move his legs in a running manner, but a wickedly grinning Wesker didn't let him. Instead, he made Chris take an AK that was hanging behind his back. _

_Jill twitched; same strings were attached to her. She lifted her head; there was begging in her eyes, she wanted Chris to free her; Redfield wanted it with all his heart, but Wesker cruelly pulled the string and his hand gripped he gun tightly and aimed it at Jill. Chris saw horror in her eyes, true fear that she would die. He wanted to scream on top of his lungs, shout at Wesker, at himself, his own weak body - but not a sound could leave his mouth. He aimed at Jill even more carefully as Jill's fear grew wilder... _

_He didn't want to do it; he didn't want to kill her. But he couldn't do anything. It was Wesker who now had his body under control. _

_"No! I don't want to kill her!"_

_Wesker's wicked laughter filled the room, and it grew only louder and louder by each passing second._

_"Oh really? Think yourself, Chris: I think it's you who's pulling a gun at her"- he heard a moking voice of his captain._

_He was helpless; he was weak. He always was, he never could defeat Wesker. _

_Chris pulled the trigger, and finally, two wors flew from his lips, two words that sounded so shattered, so broken._

_"I'm sorry"_

With the sound of a gunshot, Chris woke up, opening his eyes and breathing heavily. He layed, staring at the ceiling, wide-eyed and scared.

_Scared of himself. _

Finally, his breathing became normal. Closing his eyes, he swallowed his thick saliva and exhaled shakily.

_If you only knew how hard it is without you, Jill. _


End file.
